Without Him
by Mrs Bella Riddle
Summary: After the fall of the Dark Lord Bellatrix is left alone to mourn his passing and to ponder her own life. AU if Bella was not killed by Molly. B/V


Discalimer obviously this belongs to J.K Rowling

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Everything was peaceful. The lush grass, which was laid just a few weeks ago, was ruffled only slightly by the small breeze that stretched across the vast ground to the large and ancient castle. There was no one in sight, until suddenly a woman appeared who takes off a silky cloak and places it in her black robes. They covered her completely except for a slither of her face, which peeked out from underneath her hood.

It seemed she knew exactly where she was headed as she strode straight into the thick and menacing forest, on the outskirts of the vast grounds. It seemed to block off all sound and the woman continued on following an overgrown path, twisted by ancient trees. Until she reached a clearing covered by fresh soil and many looming, thick, stone tombstones, each with various degrees of upkeep.

The woman headed for a tombstone at the back. It was the largest in the group and had an angry scorch mark marring its surface, as if someone had attempted to blow it from the earth. Once there she fell to her knees as if she was following an order. However the woman did not show the same sentiments as the one who attacked it. She pulled out her wand she gently touched each scorch mark, as she vashed each. Then with the same gentleness she slowly traced over each letter etched into the surface, her brow creasing as she read:

'Tom Marvolo Riddle'

'A Reminder That We Must All Be Vigilant To Protect Our World'

The woman glared at the words and she slashed her wand down and viciously crossed them out. Then she whispered another, softer incantation and carefully engraved new words into the surface, almost like a lover.

'R.I.P The Dark Lord, Voldemort'

'The Greatest Man Any Of Us Have Ever Known'

Yet for the first time the woman faltered with the affects of the words. Focused now on the true reality of what she had written, the word 'known' glared up at her. Not in the present tense, but in the past. Which meant, he was passed, that she never can know him again. Never!

A cry of pain escaped her lips. She fell towards the stone and wraps her arms tightly around it, as tears fell down her face, she makes no attempts to stop them. She wished that the cool stone she clutched for dear life was his cool body, but she knew it was impossible. She could never hold him or even touch him again, never see his pale face and red eyes again stare at her, never hear his cold voice or feel his cool breath on her neck. Never! Then another heart breaking cry of:

"My Lord come back!" Then in a smaller voice, "Please, my lord, please, I - I - I love you!"

Now her screams were replaced by whimpers. As she held the stone increasingly tighter tears ran faster down her face like torrents of water.

After a few moments she managed to control her breathing. It seemed she had run out of tears and with them options. Without him she could not go on, even with her sister and husband.

Slowly she released the stone and allows herself to fall on to her back onto the dirt, watching the thick canopy of trees. She felt like she could see his red eyes watching her. She addressed herself to those eyes she whispered softly.

"I'm sorry I didn't do more to avenge you. I'm sorry, but without you I could do nothing. I am nothing without you."

As if in response those eyes began to morph into a larger figure. A pale and snake like face appeared, then a tall and skeletal frame. Focusing on the face of the only man she had ever loved she felt as if she was not alone. Now in some ways he was with her.

That pale face slowly nodded and she followed his order as if he were alive. The woman reached into her pocket and slid out a short silver knife. She looked to her lord for confirmation then she quickly ran the metal over her throat.

No cry escaped her, as compared to the constant ache in her heart it meant nothing. The figure slowly floated to his follower and gently grasped her chin. Staring deeply into her eyes he kissed her gently. As her life slowly flowed from her, she put her all love and passion into this one kiss. Pulling away she whispered weakly, though with great emotion and longing.

"My Lord,"

In response he gently took her hand and lifted her gently up as she complied like she always did, as she was thinking the whole time that wherever she was going at least she would be with him.

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I hoped you liked it and that it was partialy moving. The idea arose from writing fanfiction, listening to My Heart Wil Go On and discusiing if Bella would ever kill herself. I would love to hear what you think


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